


Hunter, Hunted: A She-Ra/Star wars Crossover

by Sulfur1cAc1d



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Lightsaber Battles (Star Wars), Space Battles, Space Opera
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:08:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28786212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sulfur1cAc1d/pseuds/Sulfur1cAc1d
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	1. Inquisitor and Jedi

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Across the Stars: A She-Ra Story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27956660) by [OppositionAgent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OppositionAgent/pseuds/OppositionAgent). 



_**Catra** _

She watches as the Third Brother collapses to his knees. The light draining from the Pantoran's eyes as he grasps at his throat is a clear message to his fellow Inquisitors who have been assembled.

The room is nearly silent, apart from his ragged gasps for air.  
  
She makes eye contact with the Third Brother for a few moments, the desperation in his increasingly bloodshot eyes piercing directly into hers. Or at least, into the visor of her helmet.

For a second, she feels him reaching out to her, to anyone. Begging for help. She watches as his choking finally ceases, and he lies dead on the grated floor. 

The mechanical breathing of Lord Vader is now the dominant sound in the room. She doesn't dare move. In fact, for as long as she can stand it, she doesn't dare breathe in his presence. Then, he speaks.

"Let his example serve to motivate you," the Sith Lord begins. His voice sends shivers down her spine, her tail subconsciously wrapping around her leg. He towers over them, his black armor subtly reflecting the dim glow of the facility's lights. 

"Completing the Emperor's Purge is the mission of the Inquisitorius. It is your sole purpose. Do not allow yourselves to fail as this one has," he continues. 

He extends a hand towards the Third Brother's lightsaber. It levitates from his belt, floating into the hand of the towering cyborg.

Vader examines the weapon for a moment, before crushing it in his gloved hand. Bits and pieces of the weapon fall to the floor.

With that, Lord Vader exits the room, the Grand Inquisitor trailing behind him.

Finally, Catra exhales the breath she feels as if she'd held since Lord Vader had arrived on Nur. She feels relieved that the sound doesn't register to her helmet's voice modulator. 

To her left, she hears one of her masked comrades, the Seventh Sister let out a chuckle before stepping out of line, looking down at the body on the ground. 

"Good riddance," comes her modulated voice. The Seventh Sister gently grabs his face, getting a closer look at him.

"Less competition for the Emperor's favor. One less weak link..."

"And we don't have to listen to him screaming anymore," adds the Eighth Brother, referencing the Third's stay in Fortress Inquisitorius's interrogation chamber. They'd all been there once, it was... crucial to their induction as Inquisitors, but winding up there again was... 

Catra used the force to calm her tail, keeping to her thoughts as her fellow Inquisitors take turns mocking the dead man on the floor. Even the Eleventh Brother… she'd thought they were friends.

Despite the gossiping and jeering of her peers, Lord Vader's display certainly served its purpose. She can sense only one prevailing emotion among them all, even within herself. 

"What about you, Twelve?" the Seventh Sister asks, stepping towards her. 

"What about me?" she retorts. 

"Who do you think will be next?"

The Seventh Sister asks, her face is hidden but her sneer could be felt from here to Coruscant. She knows what she’s doing. Catra clenches her fist, before trying to calm herself, not allowing herself to give the reaction her fellow Inquisitor wants. 

"Eighth Brother has been slacking in the training room. He wouldn't last a minute against a real Jedi," She says coolly.

"You're one to talk about slacking, Twelfth Sister. But if you think we need to properly settle it, I’d happily oblige,” says the Eighth Brother, reaching gently for the lightsaber on his back.

Catra almost reaches for her own, feeling the anger grow inside her. She wants, so desperately to show him, show them all, just how far she’s come. But the chance is lost with the Grand Inquisitor’s return. The Pau’an was flanked by a pair of Stormtroopers, who move to take out the body of the Third Brother.

“Settle down. Lord Vader has demanded one of you take over the Third Brother’s mission, and eliminate the target he could not, a Jedi last spotted on Malastare. So who will it be?”

The Inquisitors exchange looks, but none immediately step forward, perhaps hesitant given the display Lord Vader provided. Then, the Seventh Sister speaks up.

“The Twelfth Sister hasn’t had a real mission in some time, Grand Inquisitor. I worry that her skills may deteriorate if she’s stuck here any longer. Assuming they haven't already...”

With this remark, a few of the other Inquisitors chortle. Catra’s claws practically dig into her hands with how hard she’s clenched her fists. It takes all of her willpower to avoid giving in and igniting her saber.

“I see… Sister, what is your take on this mission? Are you willing to accept it, to prove your worth to the Empire?” The Grand Inquisitor says as he paces the room.

“Of course, Grand Inquisitor. This Jedi will be dealt with, like all the rest,” She replies, refusing to allow herself to lose her cool.

“I trust you shall see to it, then. I’ll have our brother's reports on the Jedi in question delivered to you in short order, Twelfth Sister. I will also inform Admiral Hordak of your assignment, he will provide the resources needed. Until then, dismissed.”

  
  
  


* * *

_**Adora** _

She awakes in a cold sweat, following the same dream she’s had on and off for weeks. An awful one, the kind that was at one point real. The Temple’s burning, hiding in the shadows from the clone patrols scouring the city for her and— 

Adora doesn’t dare finish the thought, sitting up in her bed.

 _It was a long time ago._

She wonders what time it is, but can’t be bothered to check. From the window, it looks about… either really late or really early. 

She figures she won’t be going back to sleep anyways. Ever since her escape from that Inquisitor on Malastare, it’s been elusive at best. 

She curses herself again for how foolishly she handled herself back there.They’d almost had her, it easily could all have ended, or worse. Looking around the darkened apartment she’s used to lay low, she decides she could use some fresh air to take her mind off of it.  
  
Adora pulls on her jacket, stuffing her lightsaber into a concealed pocket on it’s inside. She figures… or more accurately _hopes_ she won’t need it here. 

Iloh was a small world, a beautiful tropical one she would have considered a nice relaxing vacation spot, but still small in every aspect. As such, the Imperial presence here was also small, only a light garrison. 

But all the same, after her last run in, she’d rather have the weapon handy than not.  
  
Stepping out into the cool tropical air, she’s greeted by a dimly lit street. The city she’d chosen wasn’t really much of one. It’s spaceport was small, but not so small that outsiders would be immediately suspicious. Plenty of tourists around during the day.

Soon she’d have to move on, though to where she’s not sure yet. Maybe she’d stow away again, but that could only work so many times. 

Adora looks down as she walks through the quiet streets of the Ilohian town, hearing the distant crashes of the waves. It’s a far cry from the endless noise of Coruscant, it was almost inescapable there. 

If she could help it, she was never going back.

Adora keeps her head down as an Imperial troop transport hovers by, though she can practically _feel_ it’s occupants staring. Night patrols were often jittery, she’d learned. Imperial cadets must have a strong sense of paranoia instilled in them at the academies. 

Adora breathes a small sigh of relief as the transport continues on its way.

_Okay. Where am I even going?_

She begins to realize that she has… no idea where she is. Or how to get back to her room. It’s no big deal, although what _could_ be considered one is the group of lowlifes materializing from the shadows. A Rodian, a Quarren, a Zeltron, and a human. It doesn’t take a Jedi to know she’s found herself in a bad position. “Hey,” the Zeltron calls out, her voice is raspy. Adora keeps walking, hoping they’ll just move on.

They don’t.

“The lady’s talking to you,” the Rodian says in Huttese. The Quarren moves in front of her, the human behind. Adora takes a deep breath, stopping.

_These guys really wanna do this…_

“You’ve been in town a few days, don't think we haven't noticed. Figure that’s long enough for you to need some insurance,” the Zeltron says.  
  
“I’ll pass,” Adora replies.

“Oh, but I don’t think you understand. See, if you don’t have insurance, what’s going to protect you from say… a group of three gentlemen gutting you in the street?”

As if on cue, the Zeltron’s cronies reveal vibroblades, activating them, the Quarren letting out a watery chuckle.  
  
“But that could be avoided, all for the low price of everything you have, right now!” the Zeltron continues with feigned enthusiasm.

Adora sighs, turning to face the Zeltron.

“You guys sure about this?”

All that earns her is an amused look from the Zeltron and snickers from her cronies.

 _So we’re doing this._ _  
_

In an instant, Adora’s lightsaber is free from her jacket, blue blade ignited, and has taken one of the Quarren’s arms clean off. A similar motion cleaves the human’s vibroblade in half and is followed by a force push that sends him into a wall.

The Rodian draws a blaster pistol, firing a shot she deflects into the ground, then another she deflects into him, causing him to crumple to the ground.  
  
The Zeltron immediately turns to run.

For a brief moment, Adora considers pursuing her, considers cutting off the head of the snake that is this group of scum.

For a brief moment, she _wants_ to. Who knows how many innocent people these thugs have extorted or killed?

_That’s not the Jedi way._

She extinguishes her lightsaber, and no more than a second later, she hears the telltale sound of plastoid-armored bodies rushing her way from another street.

Adora curses herself again for her carelessness tonight, before sprinting away from the scene.


	2. Escape from Iloh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following her encounter with four thugs, Adora must find her way off of Iloh.

**_Adora_ ** **_  
_**  
**_  
_** Adora _seriously_ regrets going for a walk.

It’s been nearly two hours since her encounter with the quartet of thugs, and the Imperial presence in the town has multiplied tenfold since.  
  
She managed to evade capture from the initial search parties, lurking in the same shadows the ones that got her into this mess emerged from. 

Adora tried to grab her things from the apartment, but her way was all but blocked by an Imperial AT-DP walker.  
  
Patrols have been deployed all throughout the city, everything is under lockdown. The white armor of the Imperial stormtroopers is reminiscent of ghosts stalking the streets.  
  
 _Okay, think, Adora. No doubt half the Empire and all the Inquisitors in the galaxy know you’re here now, so you’ve gotta get offworld, fast._ _  
__  
_It’s a good plan, she thinks. Except for the part where every spaceport on the planet is probably completely locked down. Even if they weren’t, she has no credits to buy passage offworld. _  
_  
 _So… not a good plan. Ugh._ _  
__  
_As Adora moves through the back alleys, she notices something: a bar. A dingy little establishment she almost overlooked.  
  
With no other real options, she steps inside. _  
__  
_It’s a dimly lit little pub, with only a few light fixtures that even appear to function. The bartender, an Aqualish, snaps at her to sit down and buy a drink or get out.  
  
Not exactly in a hurry to get out, Adora takes a seat at the bar.  
  
She scans the room, only to find it’s mostly empty, barring a pair of particularly strange strangers, a pink-haired girl and a man sitting with her, donning armor that it takes her a second to realize is Mandalorian.  
  
Neither could be much older than herself, so early twenties for the both of them.  
  
Adora orders something from the bartender, though she isn’t even quite sure what it is she’s ordered. The bartender places a glass of a light blue liquid in front of her.  
  
She’s too on edge at the moment to actually drink it regardless.   
  
On second thought, okay, maybe just a sip to ease her nerves.  
  
“Hey, there!”  
  
She spits out the drink in shock upon seeing that the Mandalorian has moved to the seat right next to her, his helmet tucked under his arm.

His friend is still sitting at their table shaking her head.  
  
The bartender shoots them an unamused look.  
  
“Oh — So, so sorry about that, I probably should’ve said something. Well, said something before I…”  
  
“You think?” Adora manages to say between coughs.  
  
“Ah… Do… you need help, or…?”  
  
He glances back at his friend, who from the look on her face has evidently all but died inside.  
  
Managing to regain her composure, Adora quickly (and awkwardly) positions herself with an arm on the table holding up her head.  
  
“Nope, I’m good.”  
  
“Right… Well, I’m Bow, that over there is my friend Glimmer, and we were wondering if maybe you knew… Any alternative routes or… any ways at all really to get into the now locked-down spaceport..?” the Mandalorian says.  
  
“Wait, were you just gonna… ask whatever stranger showed up in here to help you sneak in?” Adora asks.  
  
“Considering we don’t have time for it to wait to reopen, what else can we do?” comes the voice of Glimmer, who has appeared on the other side of her.  
  
“Quit sneaking up on me!” Adora exclaims, almost spilling her drink.  
  
“Sorry!” Glimmer says.  
  
“But… I mean, can you get us through? You’re taking this pretty well, so I’m getting a _‘maybe’_ feeling.” Bow asks, with an apologetic tone.  
  
Adora thinks for a moment.  
 _  
_“Mmm… I can help, but only if you guys get me off Iloh. Between you and me, I don’t have a lot of options here either… And I guess I’m no friend of the Empire’s.”  
  
“Deal!” Bow and Glimmer say in unison.  
  
“I’m... Adora, by the way,” She says, hesitant to give her real name.  
  
Something about these two makes her feel like she can trust them, though. 

* * *

**_  
_** The spaceport is guarded, and heavily so.  
  
From their position, huddled behind a large stack of crates, Adora can make out a squad or so of regular stormtroopers, as well as about half that number of tan-armored Coastal Defender troopers.

“We need a plan, blasting our way through is only gonna bring every Imperial in the city on top of us.” says Glimmer.  
  
“With all this security you’d think there’s a Jedi here, or something,” Bow says, looking through his helmet’s rangefinder.  
  
“Psh, don’t be ridiculous, there _are_ no Jedi anymore,” Adora says, unconvincingly.

“Well, if there _is_ one, I don’t wanna stick around to find out. We need to get back on the ship before Entrapta decides she wants to ‘study’ the life-support system.” Glimmer replies, peeking over at the troopers.  
  
“Maybe we could try some sort of diversion?” Adora asks.  
  
“What kind of diversion? Does someone need to sacrifice themselves for the others? I’ll do it!” Bow exclaims, almost loud enough to draw attention.  
  
“Bow, calm down. You’ve still got some of those sticky charges, right?” Glimmer asks.  
  
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Always.”  
  
Bow takes out a pair of magnetic detonite charges.  
  
“Good. We’re gonna use ‘em!”  
  
They all tense up at the heavy thuds and clanking of an approaching Imperial walker.  
  
“And I think I know what we’re gonna use them on,” Adora says.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The AT-DP walker stomps past their hiding spot, and the plan is set into motion.  
  
Using his jetpack, Bow leaps up, planting his charge on the back of the walker’s hull.  
  
Adora, meanwhile, rushes out to plant one on it’s leg, subtly reaching out through the force to slow it’s stride just long enough to do so.  
  
The two make a hasty retreat back behind cover, allowing the walker to continue on it’s way.  
  
The sun begins to rise over the city, painting the tropical Ilohian skies a beautiful orange.

They wait a few moments, allowing the walker to get far enough away.  
  
“Can’t think of a better way to start the day,” Glimmer says, before pressing the detonator.  
  
The walker jerks from the blasts, and falls to the ground with a deafening thud as one of its legs has been blown off. 

Adora, Bow, and Glimmer waste no time in moving to a better position. Adora glances back to see the wreckage of the AT-DP  
  
Almost immediately, the troopers guarding the spaceport rush to the scene, leaving the gate guarded only by a pair of them.  
  
“See, now that’s a _lot_ more manageable,” Adora says.  
  
The trio approaches the two remaining guards, who immediately raise their blasters.  
  
“That’s far enough!” One of them exclaims.  
  
“This is TK-860, three suspects are —”  
  
The stormtrooper is cut off by a loud whistling sound, as a tiny glowing projectile from Bow’s wristguard pierces his armor, and another does the same to his compatriot.  
  
Their armor clatters as they fall to the ground.  
  
“Whistling birds? Really, Bow?!” Glimmer asks, exasperated.  
  
“What? They’re quieter than blasters!”  
  
“Guys, focus,” Adora says.  
  
The trio rushes into the port, unopposed. Glimmer and Bow head towards a YT-2400 freighter, but stop just short of the ramp.  
  
“Gah— They’ve got us in a docking clamp!” Glimmer says in anger.  
  
And indeed, one of the freighter’s landing gear is tightly held in place by a restraining clamp.  
  
Bow kneels down next to it, attempting to pry it open. He’s joined by Glimmer and Adora, but it doesn’t budge.  
  
“Okay, stand back!” Bow exclaims, before pulling out one of his blaster pistols and shooting it, leaving a burn mark on the clamp and not really doing much else.  
  
“Well, I’m out of ideas,” he says, defeatedly.  
  
“I’ll get the clamp off, you two go warm up the ship,” Adora insists.  
  
“How?!” Glimmer asks.  
  
“I’ve got my ways, just go on and give me a minute,”  
  
With that, Bow gives a nod and escorts Glimmer up the ship’s ramp.  
  
When Adora is sure that they’re gone, she reaches for her lightsaber. It’s barely cleared her jacket’s interior pocket when a cold, tight grip is felt on her shoulder.  
  
And suddenly, she’s lifted up by the back of her jacket and hurled to the ground. She looks up at her attacker with a groan.  
  
“TRESPASSER.”

It’s an Imperial KX security droid, lumbering towards her. Even worse, her lightsaber is now on the ground about two meters away.  
  
The droid lifts its leg, and Adora quickly rolls out of the way, avoiding the lanky black droid’s attempt to stomp her into a pulp. She manages to briefly regain her footing, reaching out for her lightsaber.  
  
“I AM TERMINATING YOUR LIFE,” comes the droid’s voice as it swipes at her with it’s long arm, knocking her off her feet once again and taking the wind out of her lungs.  
  
Before she can react, the security droid has already grabbed her by the neck, lifting her off the ground as it begins to squeeze.  
  
 _No, no, no no…_ _  
__  
_Adora tries desperately to impede the droid’s crushing grip with her free hands.  
  
 _It can’t end like this, you’re a Jedi!_ _  
__  
_In one last desperate motion, she reaches out for her lightsaber. A second later, she feels the hilt of the weapon fly into her open hand. Wasting no time, she ignites it, piercing through the security droid’s head. As if a switch was flipped, it releases her, before slumping to the ground with a thud.  
  
Adora spends a few seconds on the ground enjoying the luxury of being able to breathe again.  
  
 _Focus. The docking clamp._ _  
__  
_Swiftly, she slices through it with her saber.

With that, Adora extinguishes her weapon, tucking it safely away and making a run for the ramp.  
  
“Okay, it’s done!”  
  
“Great, now hurry up, we have company!” Bow yells from the cockpit.  
  
As their ship begins takeoff, a faint roar can be heard outside.  
  
 _TIE fighters._ _  
__  
_On one of the ship’s sensor screens, five vessels appear. Four TIEs and one _Gozanti-_ class cruiser in the upper atmosphere.  
  
Adora makes her way to the cockpit.  
  
“I hope you can fly!” she asserts  
  
“I hope you can shoot, the cannon’s back there!” Bow says as flashes of green begin to appear through the viewport.  
  
Adora wastes no time, rushing to the ladder that leads down to the ventral gun.  
  
With a deep breath, she takes a seat in the gunner’s chair. She flips the power switch, and feels her heart sink to her stomach when it does absolutely nothing.  
  
She presses the communicator.  
  
“Um— Guys? The gun isn’t working!”  
  
A voice she hasn’t heard before comes over the comms.  
  
“Oh… That was me, sorry! I didn’t expect a fight today!”  
  
Bow and Glimmer can be heard yelling “Entrapta!” almost in unison, and unamused.  
  
Adora climbs back up, making for the cockpit.  
  
“Adora, how well can you fly!?” Bow asks in a panic.  
  
“I mean— I can fly..!”  
  
“Good enough, take over for me while I go get Entrapta and try to fix the cannons!”  
  
“Right!”  
  
Bow darts off into the ship, leaving Adora to take his place in the pilot’s chair.  
  
 _You’ve got this. All that time in the Temple’s flight simulators had to have meant something, right?_  
  
She takes the controls in her hands, giving them a gentle nudge upwards. More flashes of green streak through the morning sky.  
  
“It’s gonna take a minute for the navicomputer to finish it’s calculations, think you can keep us alive long enough, Adora?” Glimmer asks, punching in coordinates for their imminent jump to hyperspace.  
  
“I’ve got this!”  
  
The ship rocks as a blast from one of the TIEs strikes it’s aft.  
  
That was direct damage, meaning…  
  
“The shields are down!” Glimmer says into the comms.  
  
“I— I dunno if I’ve got this!” Adora says, pulling the ship into an evasive maneuver.

They’ve almost exited the atmosphere, their Imperial pursuers still hot on their tail.

One of the TIEs burns past them, making a pinprick turn, and opening fire on them head on.  
  
Adora jerks the controls, forcing their ship into a barrel roll to avoid the green bolts of energy coming at them.

But then, the TIE is stuck by a red blast, and it explodes into a blooming fireball.  
  
“They got the guns back online!” Glimmer cheers.  
  
Another TIE disappears off the scopes, and the other two break off their pursuit as the freighter clears Iloh’s atmosphere.  
  
Adora breathes a sigh of relief, leaning back in the pilot’s chair as she hears footsteps running to the cockpit.  
  
Suddenly, she’s pulled into a group hug with Glimmer by Bow.  
  
“That was a pretty impressive escape,” he says.  
  
“Wouldn’t have been possible without you, Adora.” Glimmer adds with a smile.  
  
“Oh, y’know. Uh… Just. Doing what I gotta do.” Adora says, awkwardly.  
  
Bow and Glimmer release her from the hug.  
  
“Glimmer, are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he asks.  
  
“I think I am…” she replies.  
  
“Adora, how would you like to join us?” Bow asks with a grin.

Adora smiles for a moment, thinking it over.   
  
_I’d just give the Empire a reason to chase them down._ _  
__  
_Her smile disappears, and she looks down.  
  
“I like you guys, but… I… I’m not sure that’s such a great idea.”  
  
“Hey, if you think whatever trouble you’ve got with the Empire scares us, it doesn’t. We could use someone like you, and you look like you could use a few friends!” Glimmer says, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Adora sighs, before looking back up at them.  
  
“Alright, I guess it couldn’t hurt to lay low with you guys awhile.”  
  
Bow and Glimmer cheer,  
  
“Welcome to the Best Friends Squad!” Bow says, enthused.  
  
“Are you sure he’s a Mandalorian?” Adora asks, with a chuckle.  
  
“More or less,” Glimmer says.  
  
The navicomputer finishes it’s calculations, and Bow pushes the hyperdrive lever forward.  
  
The stars become streaks, and in an instant they’ve left Iloh in the dust.


	3. The Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra sets off to track down her quarry.

**_Catra_ **   
  
A slash of crimson collides with the sparking electrostaff wielded by her opponent. The dark-armored Purge Trooper pulls back, twirling his weapon.    
  
He thrusts the electrostaff forward in a jabbing motion, which Catra manages to sidestep and parry the next attack, a low swing.   
  
The Purge Trooper lets out a low grunt as it becomes his turn to parry and defend, her lightsaber clashing with the staff.    
  
A force push sends the trooper flying backwards, but he manages to recover just as soon as he’s hit the ground, using his staff to steady himself before rushing at her head on.   
  
A flurry of strikes meet the blade of her weapon, the staff’s electric ends crackling with each one.    
  
With the distraction of a kick to the man’s armored abdomen, he drops to his knee, and she pulls the staff from his hands with the force. 

Before the trooper can react, she jabs him in his chest piece with one of the business ends of the staff.   
  
Five seconds of contact from an electrostaff is enough to stop a humanoid’s heart. 

Catra allows three seconds to pass, before withdrawing the weapon. 

She levels her saber at his neck.  
  
The siren that sounds the end of a training session blares, and she extinguishes her saber, stowing it at her side.   
  
For a second, she considers helping the trooper up, as he still kneels there breathing heavily.  
  
_No. Show no weakness._ _  
__  
_ She drops the electrostaff at his feet, before exiting the training room.   
  
As soon as she’s through the doors, she removes her helmet.   
  
In truth, Catra hates wearing it. It’s stuffy, uncomfortable, her ears get crushed if she doesn’t put it on right, and worst of all it’s a reminder of _her._   
  
Catra clenches her fists at the thought of her previous master.   
  
A ping on her commlink tells her it’s time to go, snapping her out of it.   
  
She makes her ways through the halls of Fortress Inquisitorius, trying to keep herself from shuddering at the water found on all sides. 

The only thing separating Catra from the millions and millions of liters of it that made up the majority of Nur’s surface were the walls of transparisteel.    
  
There’s an awful distorted familiarity to it all. In some ways, Fortress Inquisitorius was like a perversion of the Jedi Temple.    
  
But unlike the Temple, here the training dojos served to weed out the weak, torture rooms were favored over meditation chambers, and the knowledge in the Fortress archives was heavily redacted.    
  
The Jedi Temple was a place of learning the ways of the force, of balancing oneself.    
  
Fortress Inquisitorius serves only to drag you to the dark side, kicking and screaming if it has to.    
  
Though she can’t help but think that even the water on every side feels familiar, in a way.    
  
Catra strides past a squad of stormtroopers, keeping her eyes down and her focus sharp, drifting her thoughts to the mission ahead of her.    
  
This wouldn’t be her first mission to eliminate a Jedi, but it would be the first one she’d undertake alone.    


Whoever this Jedi is, they’d allegedly evaded the Third Brother’s attempts to eliminate them for months. Lord Vader obviously wasn’t pleased by the severity of his lack of progress. 

Unfortunately for Catra, the reports the Third Brother made on the Jedi were either missing or borderline worthless.    
  
_ Figures. _   
  
The Third Brother was never much of a stickler for the details, she’d been able to best him in the training room many times due to his tunnel-visioned nature. 

All she was able to glean from his notes was that the Jedi was a female human, worked at a refueling station on Malastare before she was discovered by the Inquisitorius, and apparently used an alias, “She’ra.”  _  
_ _  
_ She enters a turbolift, pressing the button to take her to the Fortress’s landing pad. Before the door closes, a black-gloved hand catches it.    
  
Catra suppresses a groan as the Seventh Sister enters the elevator.   
  
“About to leave, Twelve?” She asks, her tone borders on mocking, per usual.   
  
“As a matter of fact, I am.” Catra replies, gritting her teeth as the elevator door closes, and they begin to ascend.   
  
“You look tense, Twelfth Sister. Perhaps… daunted by the task ahead?”    
  
Catra doesn’t immediately respond, so the Seventh Sister continues, opening her helmet’s mask.   
  
“I’d be more than happy to take over your mission, if you’re having second thoughts. I’m sure Lord Vader will understand…”   
  
Catra feels her stomach tighten, and considers putting on her helmet to hide the many expressions she’s holding her face back from making.    
  
_ No. Be stronger than her, show no weakness.  _ _  
_ _  
_ “I appreciate the offer, Sister. But something tells me fighting a Jedi requires a bit more than sass and overconfidence.”   
  
The Mirialan’s typical sneer shifts to a frown. A second later, the lift stops, and the door slides open.   
  
“Of course, Twelfth Sister. Good luck on your mission.”    
  
“Luck has nothing to do with it, Seven,” Catra says, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the venomosity with which it came out.    
  
Catra places her helmet back atop her head, stepping out of the elevator and onto the landing pad, where a  _ Lambda _ -class shuttle awaits her.    


* * *

Her shuttle arrives in the hangar of the Imperial Star Destroyer  _ Obsidian  _ with little fanfare. The few stormtroopers and officers present salute as she descends the ramp, but her reception is nonetheless unremarkable.    
  
A stormtrooper approaches her, the orange pauldron on their shoulder identifying them as a captain.    
  
“Admiral Hordak requests your presence on the bridge, Inquisitor,” she says.   
  
“You’d think he would come down here himself,” Catra replies dryly.   
  
“That’s just what he requested, ma’am. I’ll lead the way,” The captain says with a hint of enthusiasm in her voice,“I’m TK-0929 by the way, Or Scorpia, if you’d… prefer that.”    
  
“I’d prefer you don’t make unnecessary conversation, Captain” Catra says.   
  
“Right, sorry, Inquisitor — Ma’am.”   
  
Catra sighs as they proceed from the  _ Obsidian _ ’s hangar, through the corridors that’ve always looked the same to her, and to the nearest turbolift to the bridge.    
  
Upon arrival, she sees the man who can only be the Admiral staring through the bridge’s viewport. 

Hordak is a pale figure in the standard uniform of high-ranking naval officers, although he has elected to include a cape with his, gray on the outside, and as he turns to face her, she sees it’s a velvety red on the inside. 

Catra had heard of this Admiral before. Hordak served in the Republic Navy during the Clone Wars, distinguishing himself in the battle of Mygeeto. 

He'd been distrustful of the Jedi even then, and that was enough to tell her that working with him was going to be… a challenge. 

“I take it you are the new Inquisitor,” Hordak says as she approaches.   
  
“I am,” Catra replies, “I’ve been authorized to use the resources of your fleet to —”   
  
Hordak interrupts, “I am well aware, Inquisitor. Your predecessor was quite wasteful, I certainly hope that you shall not be the same.”   
  
“... Trust me, Admiral. The Third Brother’s failures will not be repeated.”   
  
“Good,” Hordak begins, “Your target was sighted eleven hours ago on Iloh, in the settlement of Shallowport. There, she and two unidentified accomplices destroyed Imperial property and wounded or killed several members of the local garrison.” 

The Admiral hands her a datapad, continuing.   
  
“They escaped on a Corellian YT-2400 freighter, presumably operating under a false clearance code. A few belongings were found in a room the Jedi was using to hide out, including her false identification.”   
  
Catra looks down at the datapad, scrolling to the Jedi’s fake credentials.    
  
She feels her heart drop to her stomach as she sees the face of her target.    
  
Dark blonde, blue-eyed, a face Catra hasn’t seen since… since they made her an Inquisitor.    
  
_ It can’t be her. They killed her after that stunt on Empire Day, seven years ago.  _   
  
At least… That’s what she was told. In the interrogation chair of Fortress Inquisitorius, hearing that the first time was what did it.    
  
She feels a spiraling cold travel through her body as she reminisces, continuing to stare down at the datapad.   
  
“Is something wrong, Inquisitor?” comes Hordak’s voice. 

Catra has never been more glad she’s wearing her mask, as the expression on her face would certainly betray her.   
  
_ It’s her. It’s Adora.  _

_ Show no weakness.  _

“No,” Catra says, looking up from the datapad, “Thank you for the update, Admiral. I suggest we tell the surrounding sectors to be on alert. We’ll have this Jedi, soon enough...”   



End file.
